Xmen Revisited, Chapter 6:Interlude 3
by Kindar
Summary: Set in my own universe. Everyone does their own thing for a while
1. Chapter 1

Henry walked through Harvard's hallways his mind more in the past than in the present. The two years he'd spent studying here taught him a lot about himself, and about the world. It had surprised him; he had thought he had nothing left to learn about it after spending years living on the street.

"Are you all right?" Thomas asked him.

Henry's eyes were still somewhere in the past as he answered, "I'm just remembering my time here."

"If this is too much for you we don't have to stay."

Henry focused on his boyfriend and smiled at him. "I didn't have only bad times here; there were plenty of good ones too. And what would Maurice think if I was to bail out on him, especially now that he can see us," he added pointing out the older man waving at them.

"Henry," Maurice said presenting his hand, "I'm glad you made it."

Henry grabbed the hand and pulled him in a hug, "it's good to see you in the flesh again after all these years."

"That was your own fault," the older man replied once Henry let go of him, "for taking so long to accept my offer."

"Thomas, this is Maurice Duprey, he was my advanced genetics teacher while I was here."

"It's a pleasure to meet you Mister Black," Maurice said offering his hand before Henry could continue with the presentation.

Thomas shook it, "Like wise. I take it you've already heard of me."

The older man gave him a wide smile, "oh yes. It's very difficult for Henry not to talk about someone he loves. It's gotten him in trouble before."

Thomas raised an eyebrow and looked at his lover, "do tell."

"Maybe later," Henry interrupted Maurice as he was about to elaborate, "I believe your class will be starting soon."

Maurice checked his watch, "You're correct. Why don't you follow me, we can continue talking there while we wait for the students to arrive?"

When they entered the amphitheater there were already a few students seated in the front row. Henry, Thomas and Maurice stood behind the podium talking while the other students arrived.

"Professor, what's the meaning of this?" a young woman in the second row asked once everyone was there and the doors were closed.

The three of them looked at her. The first three rows were now almost full. "Excuse me?" Maurice asked.

"What are these fags doing here?" Her question was accompanied by many nodding head and a few surprised exclamations.

Henry felt Thomas' hand leave his. He hadn't even realized their fingers had intertwined while they talked until now.

"How dare you speak this way about," Maurice exclaimed, but he stopped talking when Henry placed a hand on his shoulder

"Why don't you let me handle this?" Henry asked him. Maurice was surprised at how calm he was, but moved away from the podium. Henry looked at the indignant woman standing in front of her seat. "Miss Alicia Montrose, correct?"

"How'd you know that?" She asked, shocked.

"The first thing I did when I got here was hack the mainframe and familiarize myself with all the students in this class."

"That's impossible," she said.

"Hardly," he said casually, "it wasn't even difficult."

"Bullshit," someone else said, "you'd have to be some sort of genius to get through the security."

Henry smiled at the middle aged man in a business suit, "Once the class is done look for my files, it's going to be under Henry McCoy. You'll find out that my IQ is probably higher than all of yours combine."

A man in his early twenties stood up, "if you're so smart how come I've never seen your picture in the graduation books?"

"Because when the school found out I was gay they decided I wasn't the kind of person they wanted studying here." He stated in an even tone. "It didn't matter that I had the highest marks they'd ever seen, in all of my classes; I simply wasn't suitable for this kind of establishment. So they kicked me out." He paused for a moment and looked at Alicia, "which brings me back to Miss Montrose. Would you be willing to explore a theorical situation with me?"

She hesitated a moment and then crossed her arms over her chest, "Sure," she said with confidence.

Henry nodded and looked over the class, searching for someone. "Mister Carpenter, could you stand please?" he asked the man in the back row. He stood nervously, his hair and jacket were disheveled, like he had had to run here and hadn't had the time to straighten himself out yet. "I believe the two of you know each other, you share many of the same classes."

Sebastian blushed and nodded. Alicia looked at Sebastian Carpenter dismissively. "Yeah, I do, so what?"

"Let's say that this is a few years from now. You've graduated and you run into each other when you both go to apply for the position of head researcher for a large pharmacical company, Let's say it Pfizer. Your interview goes very well Miss Montrose, you manage to impress them with your knowledge as well as you ability to manage people. You leave the interview confident that you've got the position." Alicia nodded in agreement. "A week later you get a call informing you that as impressed with you as they were, they didn't feel you were the right person for the job."

"What? How the fuck did that happen? Who did they chose?"

"Now, Miss Montrose, they don't have to tell that."

"Come on," she exclaimed, "who the hell could they have chosen over me?" She paused and slowly turned toward Sebastian. "You're joking, right? They chose *him* over me? No offence Carpenter, but your marks are nowhere near mine." Sebastian just blushed and tried to shrink inside himself.

"None the less, they did," Henry stated.

"Why?"

"Now Miss Montrose, I've already said they don't have...."

"Don't give me that crap," she interrupted him, "if they're going to take *him* over me they'd better tell me why if they don't want to have to deal with a lawsuit."

Henry sighed dramatically, "Very well. They picked him over you because he's a man."

She stared at him in disbelief for a moment, "What kind of bullshit is that? They can't do that"

"Of course they can, Miss Montrose, they are the one making the decision."

"Yeah? Well it's against he law to choose someone simply based on if there a man or not."

Henry smiled at her, "is it now? I happen to have a passing knowledge of the law; maybe you can tell me in which article that is mentioned?" He looked at her while she looked back at him, at a loss to say something. "I didn't think so, in fact there is no such article. Women have always been equal to men in our society so there never was a need to enter into law how one should be treated in relation to the other."

"Well, they still can't do that." Alicia insisted.

"I do believe I've explained why they can." Henry replied.

"Damn it, they can't do that." she said through gritted teeth, "it isn't right."

"No it isn't," Henry said calmly, looking at her. "Mister Carpenter, could you remind everyone here what the name of this class is?"

It took Sebastian a few moments to find his voice, "Ethics, sir."

"Yes, Ethics," Henry restated. "I believe that with Miss Montrose's help I have establish that Ethics and the Law are not the same thing. You can sit down now." Henry leaned against the podium and was silent for some time. "When you graduate at the end of the year you will all be powerful people. You will be scientist, bankers, reporters and some of you may even end up being head of states. You will all be placed in positions where you will have to make a choice between what is legal and what is ethical; what is right.

"The school, like Miss Montrose, didn't have any problem questioning my right to be here because they had the power of the law behind them. As a gay man I have no protection. Should you decide to do so, you could gang up on me and beat me to a pulp without having to fear repercussions." Thomas cleared his throat and Henry smiled, "well, legal repercussions. My boyfriend is rather protective. What they did wasn't right. Discrimination of any kind never is. That didn't make them bad people, but ethics is what makes people better. I have my own code of ethics; because of it I didn't take advantage of the fact that I was the one who build the security programs protecting the mainframe to enact some form of revenge on them. I decided to be a better person, and the purpose of this course is to give you the tools you'll need so you can decide if you want to be a better person too."

Henry then launched in a history of discrimination; showing that because of their part in the events of the first world war the Jewish people were discriminated upon, and then because of what was done to them in the second world war people's attitude toward them changed, but then it was the Japanese that fell under the sway of discrimination. He explained how after a century of being second class citizens Blacks were able to lift the veil of discrimination through their participation in the Vietnam war, but the same war brought mutants into view and made them the new targets. He showed them that now that mutants had been able to claim legitimacy a new group was needed as the focus of people's fears. And that Gays had become that focus because of the Greenwich Village riot.

"Discrimination will always exist," he said once he was done, "because humans aren't perfect. Even without meaning to, we find reasons to fear others. We need ethics because it is one of the few things we have that keeps us from giving in blindly into that fear." The class was completely silent for a moment, and then the bell rang.

Thomas moved next to him and placed a hand over his, "Are you ok?" Henry nodded, but took the hand in his and squeezed it.

"I've got to say it wasn't what I was expecting you to talk about," Maurice said, "but it was very well done."

"It wasn't what I was planning on either," Henry replied, "but it seemed appropriate to the situation." They watched as the students left, until only Alicia was left in her seat. She slowly gathered her things and walked to the front.

"Can I help you with something Miss Montrose?" Maurice asked her coldly.

She shook her head and looked at Henry. "I wanted to apologize for what I said, what I implied, earlier. I don't know that I agree with everything you said, but you've given me a lot of things to think about."

"That you think is all I can ask of you; where those thought take you will be up to you." He offered her his hand, "I hope you make the most of that journey."

She hesitated a moment before shaking it, "I hope so too."


	2. Chapter 2

Peter glanced at Katherine as he checked the right mirror before changing lane to get into the off ramp. "Are you all right?" He asked, slowing the car down as the ramp came close. "You haven't said anything since we got on the Turnpike."

"I'm ok," she said, looking thoughtful, "I just don't know if this is such a great idea."

"Why not? You haven't seen them since the funeral; I'd think you'd be overjoyed to see your mom again."

"Oh, I can't wait to see her; it's . . ."

"Your stepdad," Peter finished for her.

"Yeah," she said looking out the window.

"You two never patched things up?"

Katherine went to say something, but stopped herself as she remembered he wasn't the Peter to whom she had explained the reasons behind her animosity toward her step father. And based on the other's reaction to it, now was not the time for a retelling; so she just shook her head.

He placed a hand on hers and squeezed it tenderly. "Don't worry, everything'll be fine."

She responded with a hopeful smile.

Not long after that they arrived to Katherine's parents' home. It was a reasonably sized bungalow and it looked to have received a coat of paint recently. It had been expertly applied and covered up most of the decay Katherine knew to be there. The entire neighborhood had constantly tried to turn into a slum through out her youth, and only the willpower and hard work of the people living here had kept it from falling quite that low.

Peter parked on the street since the parking space in front of the garage was taken by a light brown Focus, which belonged to her step father, Gregory. It couldn't be put in the garage because her father's Cadillac was in it. It had been there since the day the police had brought it back. Gregory kept it in working order, but her mother wouldn't let anyone get behind the wheel.

As Katherine got back to the present Peter opened her door and offered her his hand, which she took, and he helped her to step out of the car. The walk to the door was a walk back in time. She could see herself as a young child playing on the grass with her mother watching over her. Then it was her, Caroline and Billy, her neighbors and friends playing tag, running and laughing. After that she was in the doorway hiding behind her mother as a police officer told them her father had died.

The next few steps were empty, a time when nothing had happened, her mother had stayed locked in time, focusing only on the last few days of her husband's life. Then Gregory came into their life and time picked up again. The last memory she saw before reaching the door was herself coming home from school, and Gregory looking at her in a way that made her uncomfortable.

She stood in front of the door, looking at it and trying to get herself to knock. She knew she didn't have to, the door was unlocked; her mother never locked it in case one of her friends just dropped by. She could simply open it and walk in, her mother would be overjoyed to see her, but she didn't consider this place her home anymore so it didn't feel right to enter unannounced.

Peter placed a hand on her shoulder, "are you ok?"

She looked at him and smiled, "yes, I'm alright," she told him with as much sincerity she could manage and then knocked.

"Just a minute," a woman's voice said from somewhere deeper in the house. Not long after that the door opened.

"Hi mom," Katherine said in the silence that accompanied her mother's surprised look.

"Kitty," the woman exclaimed in delight, wrapping her arms around her daughter, "it's so good to see you, why didn't you let me know you were coming over?"

"It was kind of a last minute thing," Katherine lied; she hadn't wanted her mother to make a special even of the visit.

"Well, I'm just glad you've though to visit your aging mother. Who's your friend?" She trailed off as she looked at Peter. "Peter?" she asked, uncertainty in her voice, even though she could see him standing there.

"Hello Ms. Pryde," Peter said, subduing his enthusiasm at seeing Katherine's mother again since she thought he was dead.

She looked from Katherine to Peter and then Katherine again, "How?" was all she could manage to say.

"We'll explain everything, but maybe we can do it inside?" Katherine said with playful smile.

"Of course! Please come in. I must be getting daft in my old age." She moved out of the door way to let them enter.

"Forty six isn't old mom," Katherine commented, "is Gregory here?"

"He's in his workshop, I'll go get him. Make yourselves comfortable."

Left alone Katherine started fidgeting so Peter took her in his arms. "It's going to be ok."

"I know," she replied, "I just wish I could get rid of this irrational fear this is going to blow up in our face." She sat down in the love seat and peter sat next to her, holding her close.

A few minutes later her mother came carrying a tray with cookies and glasses of milk. "He's going to be in as soon as he cleans up; you know how he gets when he's working on his engines. Here, enjoy these whiles you wait, I'm sorry they're a little stale, if I'd known you were coming I would have baked a fresh batch."

"It's alright Ms. Pryde, I'm sure they're still delicious," Peter said as he took one along with a glass.

"Please Peter, I told you before, call me Ann, or better yet, mom; you're almost family, after all you were engaged to my daughter before you," She stopped as she realized what she was about to say, "I'm sorry," she said as she looked away.

Peter used the time she wasn't looking at him to hide his surprised expression. The only time he'd met Katherine's parents things had been cordial, but rather cool. She had kept looking at him suspiciously. He should have realized that the other Peter had gotten to know them better, after all Katherine had proposed to him. He had had to deal with them for during the preparations if nothing else.

"It's alright, Ms. . . . . Ann, this isn't an easy situation to deal with."

"I'll say," said a gruff voice coming from the open kitchen door. Peter looked up at Gregory as he entered the living room. He had more white in his hazelnut coloured hair and beard than Peter remembered. "So, how did you cheat death?" The older man said sharply.

"Gregory," Ann said in a reproachful tone, "Please, there's no need to be snippety."

"Sorry, this is just a bit of a surprise," Gregory said insincerely.

"It's alright dear," Ann said, not noticing the tone or ignoring it, "I have to say I'm also curious as to how it happened."

Katherine glared at her step father for a moment. "Turns out that we didn't bury Peter," she said in one breath, looking back at her mother.

"Who did you bury then?" he mother asked, surprised.

"I don't know."

"Probably the man who attacked me," Peter said.

"Attacked you?" Gregory asked skeptically.

Peter nodded and prepared himself to tell the story the Agency had helped them build to explain his return. "I was mugged, beaten up into unconsciousness."

Katherine took over, "the mugger must have taken Peter's wallet and his car keys."

"Didn't they catch it wasn't Peter when they pulled the body out of building?" Gregory asked; his skepticism evident.

Katherine shook her head, "he was about Peter's height and build. The explosion disfigured him enough that they went with the wallet they found on him. In the autopsy they didn't find anything that contradicted that the body could be Peter so they continued to assume it was, and contacted me."

The explosion had been the cover story the Agency had come up with to hide the fight between Peter and the mutant who had escaped their custody. The mutant had managed to disable his inhibitor restraints and was furiously torching the building and everyone in it when Peter tried to stop him. The mutant's fire had generated so much heat that he'd melted Peter's armored form.

"I woke up in the hospital a few months ago. They hadn't been able to find out who I was so no one could find out it wasn't me who had died. As soon as I was able to I contacted Katherine."

"And we're just learning about this now?" Ann exclaimed.

"It took some time before I was able to convince Katherine it was really me." Peter said, not having to act uncomfortable about it.

Katherine squeezed his head, "sorry," she said softly before looking at her mother. "The timing really sucked, I'd finally gotten over Peter's death that I get this phone call form someone claiming to be him. I thought it was a sick jock, or someone trying to con me. Even when he showed up at my door I still didn't want to believe him."

"Even after I managed to convince her I was me," Peter said, "it still took time for us to figure out where we stood, for me it felt like I'd only been gone a few days, but she'd been missing me for a year. It's only been in these last few weeks that we've been able to find our footing around each other again."

Ann jumped out of her chair and hugged him tightly, "I'm so glad that you're back, my Kitty's been miserable without you."

Peter hugged her back, blushing in embarrassment as he couldn't come up with anything to say in return. He did notice that Gregory kept looking at him suspiciously. After that the conversation turned to everyday things, mostly reminiscing about the past. Ann kept retelling stories of Katherine's childhood, much to her embarrassment.

When she saw that the glasses were getting close to being empty Katherine volunteered to refill them so she wouldn't have to listen to the next story. She placed them on the tray and went to the kitchen.

She was putting the milk jug back in the fridge when Gregory entered the kitchen. "You really expect me to believe that story? Ann's soaps are more credible than that."

Katherine didn't look at him when she replied, "I don't care what you believe."

"Is that what he can do; coming back from the dead? Or is he like one of those shape shifters that's been in on TV?" He moved close behind her and spoke softly, "it doesn't matter; we both know you just brought him here to convince yourself you want him more than me."

"Get away from me," Katherine growled as she smelled the beer on his breath. She turned and pushed him off.

Gregory steadied himself and leered at her. "Before you think of trying anything, if I die your mother is going to receive a letter telling her exactly what you are." He put a hand on her shoulder, "in fact if you play too hard to get, she might just receive it anyway."

She spun and stepped back, "Don't touch me." She growled. The feel of his hand had brought back memories she'd rather not think about. Memories of him crawling into her bed and touching her in ways no man should without her consent. Of how she panicked and plunged her hand through his chest. The look of horror and pain on his face as she let him feel it through his heart, but the worst was the satisfaction she felt at hurting him. He hah intended on hurting her and now she was returning the favor.

That's what made her stop and run out of the room; and then the house. It wasn't the fear that he would reveal to her mother that she was a mutant, or that he would try to get his revenge on her some other way. It was the deep seated pleasure she'd gotten in causing pain to someone else. It was something she didn't want to feel.

She had been surprised when she'd finally worked up the courage to contact her mother again to find out that he had never said anything. Her mother had been so happy that she was fine that she didn't ask too many questions about why she'd run away and Katherine hadn't volunteered any information.

She didn't hide the disgust she felt as she looked at Gregory, "You touch me again, and I'm going to tell her exactly what you tried to do to me when I ran away. Do you really want to put to the test which betrayal is going to hurt her the most?" She picked up the tray, "now get out of my way."

Gregory just crossed his arms over his chest and leered at her. With an exasperated sigh she walked through him, feeling satisfaction at his shudder of fear, and then opened the door to the living room.

The rest of the visit passed with unacknowledged tenseness, which only Ann seemed not to notice. Gregory kept throwing knowing gazes at Katherine, which she steadfastly ignored. Peter did his best to act like he knew what Ann was talking about when she recounted one of 'his' previous visits; all the while wondering if he could measure up to that man she was describing.

The drive back home for Peter and Katherine was spent in silence, each pondering how, or even if they could deal with another visit there.


	3. Chapter 3

Ororo grabbed a stack of books and placed them on the table. They disappeared almost immediately as customers grabbed them before standing in line for Lindsey to sign.

Ororo liked being present during the book signing. She liked seeing the reader's reaction and hearing what they had to say about it.

She simply didn't want to be the one on the receiving end of it.

Lindsey was very good with them. She could take the criticism with a smile and even politely rebuke those who made wrong assumption about what was going on, or over stepped their bounds as reader without getting nervous about it. Ororo couldn't imagine directly facing the crowd.

She finally managed to put books on the table and have them stay there. She let Lindsey know she was taking a break and joined Bishop at the coffee counter. She kissed his cheek lightly and sat next to him, ordering some tea.

She was happy, but surprised, when he'd agreed to come with her on the tour. It was two weeks; a few days spend in each of New-York's major cities. He hadn't even hesitated. When she asked if it was going to interfere with his work he just told her not to worry about it.

When he first told her he'd found actual work she'd been worried, considering his background there was no telling what that might mean. She'd tried to get him to tell her what that work was, but he wouldn't. He did assure her that it didn't involve the Renegades and wasn't actually illegal. She trusted him so she didn't ask about it again.

"I didn't think there would be this many people here," he said looking the crowd over.

"Margaret says that it's on its way to becoming a best seller so the crowd isn't surprising." She looked at him. "You meant because it's a book," she stated with a small smile.

Bishop shrugged. "There's better things to do than read a book."

She giggled at his response and then thanked the server for bringing her tea. "A lot of people like to read a book to relax after they're done working you know."

He looked at her and after a moment gave her a lustful smile, "I prefer to *DO* my relaxing, rather than read about it."

Ororo felt herself blush at the intensity in that look, and her reaction to it. She didn't show her reaction, only giving him a demure smile before taking a sip of her tea. Before her cup was empty she noticed the table being almost bare so she went back to filling it.

"I really like this book," said a woman as Ororo bend down to get more books out of a box. When she stood to put them on the table there was a petite woman on the other side of the table. She had short cropped light brown hair, was wearing a salmon coloured dress and she was holding the book tightly against her chest. "I really think it's the best one," she added when Ororo was looking at her.

Ororo looked at her for a moment, trying to place why she looked familiar, and then wondered why she was telling her that instead of Lindsey. She looked at the line, which wasn't very long at the moment and then back at the woman. "I'm sure Lindsey would love to hear that," she said and bent down to pick up another stack of books. The woman was still there when she stood.

"Do you think in the next one she's going to choose the prince over Malerik?" She asked, caressing the cover of the book.

Ororo had decided from the start of the series that the princess was going to go against tradition. She was going to choose her childhood friend and protector even though he wasn't royalty, but that she was asking her directly disconcerted her. She stammered a little before managing to say "Lindsey would probably know that."

The woman didn't seem to get the hint instead her eyes light up "How silly of me," she said offering her hand, "I'm Emily."

Ororo looked at the hand confused, what did this woman want? She reluctantly shook it, "I'm Ororo."

"Oh, I know who you are," Emily said with a wide smile.

"You do?"

"Of course; you're the woman behind the African Princess books."

"You're mistaken," Ororo said firmly afer eyeing the woman for a moment, "Lindsey's the author."

Emily's eyes lost some of their jovialness, "Please don't treat me like I'm one of those mindless readers. The princess looks exactly like you. You really expect me to believe that it's really because you're her friend? That woman couldn't write herself directions down the road."

Ororo's opinion of Emily changed instantly, she'd seen that look often on the street; this woman meant business. "What do you want?" she asked flatly.

"I just want you to sign my book," she answered happily.

Ororo studied the woman for a moment before sighing with annoyance and signed the book. It would get her out of her hair. With a beaming thank you Emily left the book store. Ororo put the small woman out of her mind and went back to adding books on the table.

* * * * *

Two days later Ororo saw Emilie again. They were in a large bookstore in Albany this time. Emilie saw her from across the store and waved over her head.

Ororo ignored her, continuing to place books on the display table. She turned to grab a box and froze when she faced the table again; Emilie was on the other side.

"Hi," the smaller woman said, waving at her, "I guess you couldn't see me from back there."

Ororo looked at her for a moment, hiding her annoyance. "I saw you," she said flatly.

"Why didn't you wave back then?" she asked jovially.

"I don't see why I should have," she answered taking the books out of he box.

"That's what friends do."

"We aren't friends," Ororo replied flatly.

"Of course we are," Emilie replied with a sincere smile, "I'm your biggest fan, that's almost as good as being your best friend."

Ororo couldn't stop the small sigh of annoyance. "You're not a fan of me, you're a fan of the book," She said working hard to keep her teeth from clenching. "Lindsey is the writer, she the one you want to express your enthusiasm to. I'm certain she'll be happy to wave back at you."

"Are you going back to that song and dance?" Emilie said, dropping her smile. "I've already told you that I know you're really the woman behind the princess, not that hack. Why do you deny it?"

"Because you're wrong," She replied with practice casualness before taking another stack of books out of the box and putting them on the table.

"I'm wrong, am I?" Emilie looked thoughtful for a moment and then waved at the books. "I guess I'm just going have to tell everyone who really wrote and see what they think. I guess I'm going to have to watch them fawn over you, but remember that even then I'm still going to be your number one fan." She turned to head to the line before Lindsey's table.

"Wait." Ororo ordered. She was standing to her full height, holding herself like the royalty she was in the books and glared at the small woman. She prevented herself from shaking by holding perfectly still, feeling her face flush but knowing her brown skin would hide most of it. "What do you want?" she asked the woman who seemed fully able to ignore a stare that would make Scott back away from her very carefully.

"I just want you to wave at me," Emilie said, beaming.

Ororo continued to glare at her, until Bishop placed his large hand on her shoulder. "Is everything ok?" he asked softly.

She didn't answer immediately, taking a moment to regain control of her voice. "This woman was just telling me how much she was looking forward to reading the book." She managed to sound completely normal saying it.

"That's right," Emilie echoed, almost bouncing with joy, "but I'd better get going and let you get back to work, bye!" She waved as she stepped back. Ororo didn't wave back and Emilie's lips tightened and she stepped toward the line.

Ororo gave her a small wave and Emilie bounded off.

"What was this about?" Bishop asked.

Ororo shook her head. "Please don't asked me to tell you," she said softly.

Bishop was silent for a moment and then kissed her on the temple. "All right."

* * * * *

Ororo saw Emilie at the next three stops they made on the tour. Every time she would wave at her and Ororo would reluctantly wave back. Then Emilie would buy a book and talk with Ororo.

Ororo did her best to not let her animosity for the woman show, and even when it did slip by Emilie didn't seem to notice it. On the third one Emilie again tried to get Ororo to admit she was the one writing the books, going so far as to imply that Lindsey was blackmailing her into the support role.

Ororo almost did lose her temper then, telling her how foolish she was and telling her to leave her alone. Emilie glared at her, but she did leave. A few hours later the store closed and the three of them left the mall.

"One more day of this and I finally get to go home," Lindsey said stretching her back again and then tightening her jacket against the cold wind. "Are you sure you don't want to take over the book signing?" she asked as they crossed the parking lot.

"Most certainly," Ororo replied, "I have no idea how you can manage to deal with all those questions and request and accusations. I'd just freeze and want to go hide in a corner."

"It isn't so bad. Most of them are nice people who just get a little too involved in reading the book."

"Far too involved," Ororo agreed, thinking of her particular fan.

"Well, my car's over there, so I'll see you tomorrow morning."

"Drive carefully, it's going to start snowing in ten minutes," Ororo warned her.

"Thanks for the warning." Lindsey headed to her car, crossing the mostly empty parking lot.

A car started speeding up in her direction, becoming visible only when it passed under one of the lights in the parking lot. It was enough for both Ororo and Bishop to see it.

"Lindsey!" Ororo yelled.

Bishop ran as fast as he could toward the woman. Since leaving the Renegade he no longer kept a charge, the only thing he could do to save Ororo's friend's life was to get her clear.

Lindsey has turned at hearing her name and froze in surprise when the headlights came on directly in front of her.

Bishop grabbed hold of her as he passed and forced her to run with him.

The car changed direction, continuing to accelerate.

It only took him one look over his shoulder to decide that they wouldn't be able to evade the driver. He stopped and forced Lindsey to crouched with him, keeping his body between her and the car.

The right side of the car's bumper made contact with him, and he absorbed the kinetic energy of the impact. It crumpled under the weight of the moving car as it added more and more energy that bishop had to absorb. Half the front of the car was crushed before it was sent skidding and spinning.

Ororo ran to them. "Are you ok?" she asked fervently. She'd never seen Bishop do anything like that. She'd been sure he was going to be crushed when the car hit him.

Bishop stood and helped Lindsey up.

Lindsey looked at him wide eyed. He was glowing because of the amount of energy he had had to absorbe.

"We're fine," he answered.

Ororo was going to ask Bishop about how he'd done this but the car door opened and slammed shot, making her look over her shoulder. She growled when she saw who had been behind the wheel. She stalked in her direction.

"What the hell are you doing?" She yelled at Emilie as the small woman leaned against her car, a gash on her forehead.

"I'm trying to save you," she answered.

Ororo stopped in surprise. "From what?"

"From her!" she pointed at Lindsey. "She's stealing the fame that should rightfully be yours!"

Wind picked up quickly, buffeting Emilie left and right. "Listen to me you insignificant little woman." The temperature started going up as the wind became stronger. "You have no idea who I am. You want to manipulate me, humiliate me; go right ahead. But never, ever go after my friends, or you will find out what I am willing to do to protect them." Lightning struck Emilie's car, sending her flying.

The thunder that accompanied it was still resonating when she tried to stand, only to have another lightning bolt fall from the sky and land a few feet from her, the impact sending her back several feet.

Ororo walked to her and stood over her, watching her face and the fear that covered it. Satisfied she turned and walked back to her friend who was looking at her with a mix of awe and fear.

Bishop was looking at her, smiling with pride.


	4. Chapter 4

"Doctor Grey," the skinny man called, running after her.

She stopped and turned, smiling at him. "Maxim, what can I do for you?"

"We got a match," he said between pants, bent down, hand on his knees, trying to catch his breath. "I'm sorry it took so long, but it wasn't easy putting the image fragments together into a face, and we had to juggle other assignments."

"That's alright, I wasn't expecting immediate results," she replied, he must have run all the way from his office to be this out of breath. "I know you worked on this as fast as you and your team were able to." The artist looked up at her and beamed. Jean knew that Maxim was sweet on her, but she did her best to keep some distance, even before Scott. He was a nice guy, but his idea of spending a good time with her really didn't match hers.

She took the file that he handed her and looked through it. On one side was the drawing they had done on the other was the cover of the Times, with the picture of an Asian woman in a business suit. The blurb next to the photograph named her Mariko Yashida

"How confident are you that this is the right woman?"

"Everyone worked independently with the images you gave us and we all came up with an image that was very similar. For each image the computer gives us her as the best match, between ninety to ninety-three percent probability."

"Thank you Maxim and thank your team for me."

"You're welcome, and it was our pleasure."

Jean smiled and walked away before he could ask her out for coffee again. She read the file Maxim's team had compiled as she walked. Mariko was the head of Yashida Industries, one of the larger corporations out of Japan specializing in cutting edge medical research, but also having a hand in almost every other field.

Instead of heading back to her office as she'd intended she went to the Commander's. His secretary was away so she knocked on his door. A few moments later he told her to come in.

She gave him the time to familiarize himself with the file before talking. "I'd like to go to Seattle to interview her."

The commander looked at her, "Usual protocol would be to have someone from the local office doing the interview."

"I know, but Logan is my patient, something might occur to me while I'm talking with her. And I couldn't get a feel for her body language over the phone."

"Or get a telepathic impression?" the commander suggested.

"Please sir," Jean replied offended, "I wouldn't read someone's mind against their will."

"I know, I just meant that you can catch an errant thought as you talk to her." He looked through the file quickly, "Since she's leaving Seattle on Friday I'll arrange for you to fly there in the morning. I'll also contact the Seattle office so they know you're coming."

"Is that necessary?"

"It'll avoid inter departmental problems."

"I was thinking of going there simply as a doctor rather than as an AMA agent."

"I can't prevent you from doing that, but you won't be able to get any backup if something goes wrong."

"I know sir, but this isn't an operation, I'm only going there to ask questions of someone who might have information on my patient."

"Very well, if that's how you prefer handling it, I'll have you fly there on passenger plane."

"Thank you sir," Jean stood and headed to the door, "Can Scott accompany me?"

The commander had to fight to stop himself from smiling. "This isn't an agency operation anymore; you can bring who ever you want," he looked down at the file, "but he's paying his own way."

* * * * *

Jean and Scott were sitting in a large lobby of a very large and tall building waiting for the head of Yashida industries to be done with her meeting and find the time to see them. She spent the time reviewing Logan's file to ensure all the details were fresh in her mind. Scott looked around, studying the architecture.

A little more than an hour after their arrival a young man in a perfectly pressed suit came and escorted them to the top floor. He knocked on the door and a moment later opened it for them. They entered a large office, a very large office.

Jean looked around the vast empty space; she wouldn't be surprised if the plane they took to come here could have landed in this office. The floor and walls were immaculate white, except for the one behind the only items in the room. The wall behind the desk and chairs was a window looking over the city; she could easily make out the space needle.

The woman sitting at the desk stood and walked to them. "Doctor Grey, Mister Summers, I'm Mariko Yashida," she said as she shook there hands with barely the trace of an accent. "I must say that I'm surprise to be visited by the AMA. I don't have many dealings with mutants as far as I know." She guided them back to her desk.

"I'm here as a doctor, Miss Yashida," Jean said as she sat down. "I'm here because I hope you can help me with one of my patient." Mariko raised an eyebrow as she took the picture Jean handed to her. "He has no memories of who he is, but during one of our sessions we were able to coax the memory of a face from him, as you can see it's a rather accurate rendition."

Mariko nodded, "he drew this?"

"No, an artist did, based on the memory."

"Was there more to the memory?

"No, it was too fragmented."

"How did he lose his memory, some sort of trauma?"

Jean shook her head, "as far as I've been able to determine it was done on purpose. Someone destroyed his mind and tried to rebuild it, but they weren't successful."

"They weren't?" Mariko asked, showing the first indication of interest.

"I doubt who ever did this to him wanted to end up with someone who had nothing more than base instinct and desires."

Mariko nodded, "I agree, I don't see what use there would be for someone such as that. Do you have a picture of him?"

Jean took Logan's picture out of the file and handed it across the desk. "That would probably be how he'd looked even if it was years since you've seen him."

"How can you be certain of that?"

"He can heal anything, so it's probable that his appearance hasn't changed since his mutation kicked in."

"Shouldn't his mind have also healed?"

"Yes, that's primarily why I believe the mental damage was intentional."

Mariko had studied the image while they talked. "I wish I could help, but I've never seen this man before."

"Why do you think he remembers your face then?" Scott asked.

"I have been in multiple financial periodical, mister Summers. He probably saw me on one of them, and if his mind is as broken as you seem to think he might have," She was interrupted by her phone ringing. "Yes?" she answered it, "very well, tell them I will be there in a moment." She put the phone down and stood. "I'm afraid we will have to end this here, I have some investors waiting for me." She escorted them out of her office and to the elevator. "I hope you are able to help out your patient Doctor Grey." She said as the door closed.

^She's lying,^ Scott projected to Jean once the doors closed, ^when she looked at the picture she recognized him. Did you pick up anything?^

^No, she was either wearing a dampener, or she has extensive training in dealing with telepath, she didn't have one stray thought escape her head.^

^In her position she almost wouldn't have a choice, if only as protection against corporate espionage.^

^True. But I agree, she lied to us; that phone call was too convenient. And she was typing something with her right hand while it was out of view under the desk just before the phone rang.^

^You think she called her own phone to get rid of us?^

^I wouldn't be surprised, which means it'll be worth digging in deeper.^ The door opened and they crossed the lobby. Outside an AMA agent was waiting for them.

"Agent Grey," the uniformed man greeted her, "I'm Agent Mortimer, I've been asked to request your help with a situation."


	5. Chapter 5

Jean studied the man before her. "How did you know where to find me, Agent Mortimer?" He was young, and carried himself with a forced confidence. His uniform was immaculate and he broadcasted an eagerness to please.

"It's protocol for your office to inform us when they have an operation within our jurisdiction." The young man answered as he indicated the hummer waiting for them.

"Have you been waiting for us long?" She asked as she followed him.

He opened the door for her. "Only a few minutes. Not to worry, if I'd gotten word that the situation had escalated I would had come in to get you."

^Is something wrong?^ Scott projected to her as he got in the hummer from the other side.

^I'm not sure,^ she replied. "Do you know why I'm needed? Me specifically?" she asked the agent once he'd sat in the front.

"No Ma'am. I was just instructed to come pick you up." The Humvee started moving.

^Jean?^

^He's not lying,^ she said, ^but something's off. This wasn't an operation. There was no need for anyone to inform Seattle we would be here.^

^Force of habit maybe?^ Scott offered. ^Someone saw the request for the flight and sent an email.^

^It's possible, but I still have a bad feeling, stay on your guard.^

The drive took them to the industrial part of the city. They stopped next to four other Humvees. As they exited a man in his late forties joined them.

"Thank you for coming Agent Grey, I'm captain Santiago. Our staff shrink's on vacation and we haven't been able to raise his backup." He offered his hand.

Jean shook it. "I'm happy to help, what's the situation?"

"We were transporting a Renegade when his restraints failed for some reason. He escaped custody and ran here. We have him contained, but since you were in the area I thought it might be best if you handled it."

"How dangerous is he?"

"Probably not that much. That's why I had you contacted. I figure if you can talk him down things will be easier than us having to storm in. His name's Alexander Blandings. His folks died in his early teens. Did some time in the foster care system but ran off. Built a history as a trouble maker. When his mutation kicked in he was recruited by the Renegades. Probably just has issues to work through."

She nodded. "ok, I'll go in, assess his state of mind and I'll let you know how I want to proceed."

"I'm going in with you," Scott said as the Captain handed Jean a walky-talky.

"I'm sorry son, but I can't let you go in. I can't afford to have a civilian get hurt here."

Scott's eyes started glowing. "I can take care of myself."

The captain didn't react to the red light leaking of the Scot's eyes. "I'm sure you can, but I still can't let you go in there, Agency policy."

"It's alright sir," Jean said, "he's with me, I'll take responsibility for his safety." She took the holstered gun that was handed to her and clipped it to her back.

She looked at the captain. "Don't do anything until I've contacted you."

"Yes mam."

Scott walked in step with her as they went to the open dock door. "How are you feeling about this now?" he asked when they were out of earshot.

"I'm still not comfortable about it. The captain was wearing a thought shield. It could just be standard procedure here, but it always makes me nervous when someone takes steps to stop their minds from leaking."

Scott smiled. "I didn't realize how dependant you were on the stuff that leaks out of our head."

"I am, the same way you are to reading body language. There's nothing wrong with someone trying to control their reactions, but it does tend to make them look suspicious." She leaned against the wall before looking in. The area against the wall was empty. Forty feet further in series of wooden crates were stacked one atop the other, maybe fifteen feet high, making small alleys between them.

She cast her mind through the building, feeling for other minds. There was only one. "He's alone in the building, on the other side of it."

"How do you want to handle it? Are we going to him, or are you going to take control and get him here?"

She gave him a sharp look. "Don't be ridiculous, I'm a mind reader, not a puppeteer. And even if I was, it'd be unethical to take control of him."

"Sorry," was all Scott said as a response to the accusation. "I'll follow your lead."

She nodded and stepped inside the warehouse. She made her way through the mazes of alleys the crates made until she was less than a hundred feet from the other man. "Alexander?" she said loudly, "my name is doctor Jean Grey. I'm just here to talk."

Scott was the one who noticed the white glow appear above the crates. He grabbed Jean and pulled her to the ground with him a moment before crates exploded and the air above them sizzled.

Once the pieces of the crates and their contents finished falling then they looked up. The crates on either side of them had been obliterated. Scott looked back along the path of destruction to see a shoulder length blond haired man standing there. The man bolted when they made eye contact.

"Not very dangerous my ass," he spat, "This is most definitely a trap. Are you ok?"

Jean dusted herself as she stood. "I'm ok."

"Where is he now?"

"I don't know. I lost my concentration when we ducked, give me a moment." She took a few breaths and closed her eyes.

Scott looked around and listened while she focused. He didn't want that blaster to surprise them. He also kept an eye on the way they came in case those outside decided to join in. He doubted they would since if they wanted to eliminate them themselves they had the opportunity to do it outside.

"He ahead of us," Jean said.

Scott looked up the path just as Alexander turned in it. He seemed as surprised to see them as Scott was to see him. The man lifted both arms and pointed them at him.

Scott saw Alexander glow with a pulse of white light which then ran down his arms. He pulled Jean against himself and turned so he would take the blunt of it. He barely had time to think that was a stupid idea; the man had destroyed crates over a hundred feet. He wasn't going to be able to protect Jean.

The beam hit him.

Scott closed his eyes and gritted his teeth as he felt the heat sear his back.

And then it was over.

He opened his eyes, surprised at still being alive. He looked at Jean through a red filter. "Are you ok?" He'd worry about why his vision was off when this was all over, or why he smelt burned.

She nodded and looked at him. "What happened?"

"I don't know." He looked over his shoulder. The man was standing in the middle of corridor a look of utter surprise on his face. He noticed that the back of his jacket and shirt had been completely burnt off, but didn't stop to think about that.

He unleashed everything he had at the man who could have killed Jean.

Alexander only had time to lift his arms over his face in complete horror before he was hit.

Scott's vision returned to normal and he was astonished to see Alexander still standing, His t-shirt had been shredded off his body, but the man himself didn't have any marks on him. Instead, he started glowing white again, brighter than he had before.

Scott turned. "Stay behind me," he told Jean, "and stay down." He felt the front half of his jeans fall off, but didn't worry about that, Alexander was pointing his arms at him again.

Scott had to put an arm in front of his eyes to block off the brightness as the beam hit him again. He felt the heat as his shirt and jacket burn off, but once they were vaporized, nothing. It was as if the energy the man was throwing at him didn't exist.

Or rather, he realized as his vision shifted into the red again, that he was absorbing it.

When the beam stopped Alexander was bent over, panting. He looked up and cursed.

Scott smiled. He was going to make the man pay. He fired a beam at the bottom of the crates in the corner near Alexander. He wasn't going to waste his fire power on the man directly, but he was still going to hurt him. The crates above came tumbling down.

Alexander jumped out of the way and ran back the way he'd come from. Scott chased him, ignoring Jean's call to stop. That man could have killed her. It was pure luck that he hadn't. Scott wasn't going to stop until he'd crushed him to a pulp.

Alexander turned another corner just as Scott made the crate next to him explode. Scott continued running as he turned the same corner, where Alexander was waiting for him, crowbar in hand.

Scott tried to jump out of the way, but Alexander still managed to connect with his shoulder hard enough that his right arm went numb. He stumbled against the wall of crates and then rolled on the floor, wincing in pain and shock at the cold concrete. He shot the crowbar out of Alexander's hand and stood, glancing down at himself and only now realizing that every pieces of clothing he'd been wearing had been burned off.

Scott leaned back against the crates before pushing himself off and in range of the other man. He swung at him but Alexander dodged it and punched him in the stomach.

Scott went to his knees.

He shot at Alexander's feet, making a deep grove in the concrete and forcing him back enough he could catch his breath and stand. Alexander was standing there fist in the air, ready for him. Scott started walking for him, but before he reached him Jean interposed herself between them.

"Stand down," she ordered him.

He looked at her, his vision was now more pink then red. "He could have killed you," Scott growled, looking at Alexander.

"I don't care. Stand. Down. Don't make me have to put you to sleep."

Scott glared at her for a moment before taking a step back.

"You're going to have to do more than put me to sleep lady." Alexander told her when she looked at him, "You're not taking me back there alive."

"I'm only here to talk," she replied.

"Yeah, talk. You sure have a strange way of showing it," he commented, nodded to Scott.

"You started that by trying to vaporize us, remember?" she snapped. She took a breath and continued in a calmer tone. "He was just defending himself. We're not here to hurt you. In fact I'm pretty sure we were setup for you to kill us."

"Damn right I was going to kill you. I told you I'm not going back there. You got any idea what they did to me there?"

"I can guess," she replied, looking at his chest. It was covered with a dozen scars; some of them looked very recent. "Who did that to you?"

Alexander eyed her for a moment. "I don't know. Why do you care?"

"Because I don't approve of anyone being tortured."

"Even us evil mutants? I thought the AMA didn't give a damn what happened to *us*," he growled.

Jean gave him a few seconds to calm down before continuing. "How did you end up in AMA custody?"

He looked at her for a moment in surprised and then he searched her face, when he was done he rubbed his. "I don't know," he said in a calm tone. "I'd just been returned to my cell after this was done to me." He turned and showed her a still bloody scar on his back. "Then the goon squad walked in threw a T-shirt over me and then dragged me to the car."

"How did you escape?"

"The handcuffs just feel off my wrists. When we slowed for a light I jumped out and ran."

Jean frowned. "Those have multiple redundancy, there's no way they would just fail like that." She looked up at Alexander again. "Alexander, I'm a telepath," he stiffened, "I'd like to have your permission to enter your mind."

"Jean, don't," Scott said.

"My call," she replied.

"Yeah?" Alexander said, "well, there's no way I'm letting you in here so you can scramble my brains or what ever else you can do when your in here."

"Alex, all I'm interested in is the last few minutes, maybe the last hour. I have no need to reach before that, so you don't have to be afraid, what ever you know about the Renegades is perfectly safe."

He took a step back. "How'd you know about that if you aren't rummaging in here already?"

"It was an educated guess. I'm hoping that your mind contains the answers to why the three of us are here right now."

He narrowed his eyes at her. "Just the last hour, right? Nothing before that?"

She nodded. "Nothing before the few minute before your escape for the humvee.

"Ok, what'd I got to do?"

"Nothing."

* * * * *

She was sitting in the back seat of the humvee. Her wrists were handcuffed with standard issue AMA magnetic restraints. Alex wasn't looking at them, but she could see them in his peripheral vision. The lights indicated they were working.

She recognized the captain in the passenger seat. His cell rang and he answered.

"Yeah, that could be a problem." He said after listening to what the other person said, nodding.

"Timing's good," he continued after another moment of silence. He turned to look at Alex. Alex looked out the window instead of meeting the hateful gaze. "I know just how we can take care of the situation. Don't worry about it, I'll handle it." When Alex looked forward again the captain had a walky-talky to his mouth

"Mortimer, you there?"

"Yes sir."

"Good. I want to you go to the Yashida building. We have an Agent Grey there currently. I need you to pick her up."

"Very well sir. Where am I bringing her?"

"That hasn't been decided yet, I'll probably know before you reach her. Access her file so you know who you are looking for. She might not be in uniform."

"Very well sir."

The captain put the walky-talky away.

Moments later the handcuffs fell off Alexander's wrist. She stopped the memory and played it back. Alex wasn't looking at them, but she clearly saw the green light go yellow before turning off.

* * * * *

"Ok, we were all setup."

"You sure?" Scott asked.

"Yeah. The captain called for us before Alex had escaped. And the handcuffs didn't fail, they were turned off."

"What'd that mean?" Alexander asked.

"It means they were hoping you would kill us."

"But why, it's not like I know the two of you, why'd they think I'd do it"

"Cause they knew you'd be determined not to go back with them." Scott offered.

"kay, then what now?"

Jean smiled. "Now we get you out of here."

"How," Alexander asked, "I'm pretty much tapped out."

"You're not blasting your way out; we're going to be discreet."

* * * * *

"I thought you couldn't control people," Scott said as he watched Alexander walk by the agents guarding the back of the building. None of them even acknowledged his presence.

"I can, but I don't. Not if it can be helped. What I'm doing is replaying the same five second memory when nothing happened over and over." When Alexander had disappeared from view she left the agents minds.

Scott had to catch her before she fell to the ground. "Are you ok?"

"I'm fine, just my brain readjusting to having input from only one source."

"What do we do now?" He asked when she was able to stand on her own.

"First we find you something to wear. Then we go back home."

"Wait, aren't we going to bring them to justice? They tried to have us killed."

"Unfortunately we don't have any proof. Memories aren't admissible."

"So they just get away with it?"

"For now. But I'll have some people look into the captain's files, maybe we can find something else there we can use against him."

Scott grumbled, but he did understand her reasoning. Unless he wanted to become like the renegades, they couldn't just take justice into their own hands.


End file.
